


touch me like you touch nobody

by whisperedsilvers



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Healing, Sakura is BAMF, Smut, as usual, goodness, some good wholesome shisui love, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-22 07:59:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedsilvers/pseuds/whisperedsilvers
Summary: There is always madness in love. —shisui/sakura





	1. un

Honestly, the last thing Shisui remembers is the feeling of being burned alive. It’s not a pleasant memory, because he didn’t really burn. He drowned. He drowned so quick, so fast, that it felt like his lungs were on _fire_ and the water was so, so _cold._ The world felt cold. His world was blue, blue deepening into cobalt and then bleeding into black. He always thought drowning would be a peaceful experience, but it’s not—it’s so much _worse._

“ke—is it him?” There’s a voice, it’s sounds muted like there’s static in his ear from his last ANBU mission and he’s dizzy he thinks.

“Yeah,” his voice is rougher like he’s scraped his throat with sandpaper, “I have it here,” there’s a pause, “Is it going to take long?”

“He needs to be conscious for me to do the implant,” she replies just as easily.

Shisui stiffens at the word implant, his eyes – or where would be his eyes – his sockets then? His eye socket opens and something in the air – not tangible – it tenses.

“Shisui,” It’s Itachi and Shisui doesn’t know how to feel, “Shisui can you hear me?”

“Itachi?” His voice drips with incredulity, because fuck, wasn’t he supposed to be _dead?_ Unless, Itachi is dead too.

“Bear with me, cousin,” Itachi sounds tired, like he’s been through hell and back, “It’s going to feel a little strange for a bit.”

Shisui is still tense, but he doesn’t move unless Itachi tells him to and for the first time in years, Shisui feels _vulnerable._ It’s such an uncomfortable feeling because he can’t _see_ and he just—he just don’t know how? There’s a faint hum of chakra, it brushes against his arm, like a test, his chakra – which is practically non-existent – flares and tangles with the foreign energy. The chakra travels further until it’s near his face and Shisui stiffens until his spine is steel. There’s a huff of annoyance, but the voice doesn’t speak, instead, the user heals the bruises near the sides of his face, and a thumb hooks against his eyelid.

A thumb, it feels like a thumb he thinks vaguely, lifts the skin and then there’s pressure. It doesn’t hurt because the chakra is numbing his nerves, but fuck it’s so invasive that his nails dig into the earth. The owner of the chakra does the same procedure to his second eye and it feels like—he frowns, it feels like—

“Itachi-san,” the voice – it’s the woman and she’s very close to him, so the medic? – orders, “Hand me the bandages.”

Shisui feels Itachi’s hands on his shoulders, the familiar scent of his hair and the strange crackles of ozone leaks into the smoke of his chakra, small hands, fingertips rough and calloused wrap gauze around his eyes.

“I’m going to heal the rest of your injuries,” she – the medic – tells him, she sounds strict but her voice carries a hint of concern, she sets his leg and heals the broken bone with a certain ease that makes him even more uncomfortable, “You need to keep the bandages on for at least four hours, it will give your body time to build up enough chakra to recognize your eyes, and then the pathways should connect naturally.”

Shisui stills, it’s—he doesn’t know _what_ to feel, he speaks, “My…eyes?”

Itachi exhales behind him, “Yes. Sakura-san has given you back your eyes—”

“Itachi,” his voice is angry, it’s so _angry_ that Itachi flinches because he has _never_ heard his cousin speak like that, his fingers grab onto him, blunt nails digging into his forearms, “I gave you my eyes—”

“It’s over,” Itachi tells him before he can give him a scolding, “Everything.”

Shisui still doesn’t understand, he shifts, “What—?”

Sakura, the medic, who has no time to deal with these Uchihas – because she had enough of them to last a lifetime – sighs with exasperation, surely, Sasuke’s brother could’ve elucidated, because three fucking words weren’t enough—just, what has she done to deserve this? She decides to help the semi-younger Uchiha out, because Sasuke is breathing down her neck, “Danzo is dead—everything is over, so just _shut up_ and stop moving.”

Can you blame her for being irritated? She’s been up for over thirty-six hours, the war is over and there’s just so _much_ to do. Dealing with stubborn patients takes a toll, but what’s worse is being stuck in a cave with three Uchihas, and that’s—that’s just _inhumane_.

Shisui thinks he’s staring at the voice, his head moves in her direction as she heals the gash across his stomach, he doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but, he twitches just for the hell of it.

.

Shisui’s somewhere near a river, he wants to think it’s the Naka river because that’s where his life had ended, but now he’s alive—? No one has deemed it appropriate to give him an explanation, so he sits still on the grass and eats the rice balls that Itachi is so keen to stuff down his throat.

“Sasuke, I swear to _God_ I will hit you,” Sakura, the medic, threatens his cousin – Itachi’s younger brother is here and he wants to coo, because the last time he saw little Sasuke is—he can’t even remember – there’s a slap and a hiss.

“What the _hell,_ Sakura?” His voice is cool and sharp like lightning, it’s the sound of a man and Shisui tries to blink back, because that _can’t_ be Sasuke.

“I told you if you touch my riceballs you will face my _fists_ ,” she scowls – at least he thinks she scowls – and then there’s a sound of plastic ruffling, “There’s no tempura in this, so you can have these tomatoes, jerk.”

A grunt.

A slap.

“What was _that_?”

“Thank you, Sakura,” He – Sasuke – deadpans, “I shall forever treasure this moment.”

“Gross, can’t you go back to being broody and uptight?” Naruto interjects obnoxiously, apparently, he’s Sasuke’s best friend, according to Itachi that is.

“Shut up, dobe.”

Sakura sighs, she shuffles on the grass, knees cracking and leather flapping, “It’s been five hours, we can take off the gauze.”

Shisui didn’t have to be blind to know that all eyes are on him, he sits up and straightens his spine. Sakura comes closer, her chakra is warm, warm like water in the summer and he feels like he’s submerging in the sunlight when her chakra touches him. She feels him still, “It’s just a diagnostic.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Sakura unravels his bandages, the sunlight peeking through the leaves makes his eyelids twitch, she sends a pulse of healing chakra to his eyes, coating his optic nerve and finer dojutsu veins, she tells, “You can open them, slowly,” she shifts her weight to her knees, “Give it a minute, it might be blurry.”

Shisui opens his eyes.

.

Sakura’s eyes are green.

That’s his first thought.

Her are _so_ green. They aren’t a true emerald, no it’s a color between jade and sea-foam. It bleeds into different shades of sage, dipping into blue and settling into a deeper olive as it reaches her pupil.

His vision is sharper, clearer and he can’t _remember_ his vision being so vivid.

Her skin is like satin, a warm hue radiating from her form, and her hair is _pink._

Pink, like pearls, like petals, like—like something unearthly and he’s not going to sit here staring at her because she’s the first thing he sees in—he sees in a…while, because how long has it been?

“How is it?” Sakura asks professionally, her hands are up ready to heal whatever wrong with him and he thinks it’s admirable.

“It’s,” Shisui starts, it’s the first time he’s initiating conversation with her, his medic, “It’s different.”

She nods as if she knows, she explains, “It’ll feel weird, it’s been maybe fifteen years? Eighteen or something since you haven’t had eyes or were alive or,” she scratches the back of her neck, “Something like that? You’ve only managed to restore half of your chakra, so once your chakra is full it should feel back to normal.”

Shisui sits there, his mind is spinning trying to understand what—

“It’s actually fifteen years,” Sasuke corrects.

Shisui’s eyes flicker over to Sasuke, Sasuke who’s a _man_ and he feels some part of him crack.

Itachi leans next to him and tells him everything— _everything._

.

Shisui is sure that he made sure that no one, that _nobody_ could find his body, he had planned for that, but what he didn’t plan for was for Sasuke.

Sasuke.

As if that’s the only explanation.

Because only Sasuke, his little cousin, Itachi’s younger brother, could travel through time and grab him with the grace of a goddamn _feline._

Really, what was he supposed to do?

.

“This is so…bizarre,” Naruto says looking at the bridge, _the bridge,_ the bridge where team seven was formed and where it stood. Sasuke leaning against the tree, Naruto in the middle of the field with Sai and Sakura hovering over the bridge.

Kakashi, the _sixth_ Hokage, appears with a puff of smoke, he smiles with that eye crinkle – or eyes crinkle – and sits on the tree branch.

And it’s Sasuke that opens his mouth, “You’re late.”

Sakura wants to laugh until she cries, because _oh,_ how she misses this.

.

“This is bizarre,” Shisui says blankly, he watches Itachi rake, _rake_ his backyard, place soil on the corner of the compound and water his new garden.

“Yes,” Itachi does not disagree, instead, he plants lettuce, tomatoes, and potatoes, “I’m thinking of planting cucumbers. Do you think the sun is in the right place to do so?”

Shisui really can’t wrap his mind around this.

“Itachi-chan,” Mikoto, Itachi’s mother is alive and kicking, she smiles and asks, “I’m making Kobacha for dinner, would you like tempura as well?”

Itachi bows his head because he can still feel _her_ blood on his hands and it’s not a good feeling, so he leans his head before he starts cracking like the war-torn shinobi he is, “Anything is fine, kaa-chan.”

It’s _hard_ , it’s so hard and he thinks maybe he should’ve died—stayed dead.

“Itachi-chan,” Mikoto says chidingly.

“I would not be averse to having yakitori,” he tries again and he feels slightly raw when she smiles again.

“Hm, I think I have some meat for that,” Mikoto turns to Shisui and asks him softly, “Shisui-kun, do you mind running to the market and buying some rice? I want to make some rice balls too.”

Shisui nods and smiles, “Sure thing, Mikoto-obaa.”

His fingers itch to pat his younger cousin on the back, he turns his head and walks out of the compound.

Redemption begins with forgiving yourself.

He hopes Itachi will understand one day.

.

The reconstruction of the Leaf is still happening, it’s in progress, but it’s haunted. There’s so much work to be done and it’s almost—it’s like a ghost town. He barely remembers the village, but he knows it looks _nothing_ like this. Agriculture took a toll, but it’s recovering. Tea and Grass country have land and climate hat’s better suited for that type of trade, yes there are certain things that aren’t in the market, but, it’s only a matter of time before it’s back to normal.

Time.

That word seems to haunt him, he thinks.

“Sakura-sama, please accept these ginger roots,” A woman near the cabbage section says speedily, “Please.”

Sakura smiles kindly and tries to reject, “No, no it’s fine, I can pay—”

“Please,” The woman presses, “For taking care of my son, _please_ accept this.”

The pink-haired woman blinks, her fists tighten into a ball, then she releases her tension, and nods her head, “Thank you.”

When the woman isn’t looking, she puts the ginger back on the stall and leaves some ryo.

And Shisui has to wonder.

_Wonder._

.

“Are you experiencing any itching, swelling or discomfort with your eyes?” Sakura asks, her hand-held light moving from left to right as she tests the muscle of his pupil.

“Minor itching,” Shisui answers, his feet kick against the raised cot of the hospital.

“Does it burn or tear?”

“Neither,”

She presses her lips together, “Well, what does it feel like?”

Shisui doesn’t know how to act anymore. He doesn’t see her the way he’s supposed to see her and he knows it doesn’t make sense, bshe givesive him his sight _back_ , so he can’t really ignore her and it’s just—it’s sometimes too much.

“It feels like something is holding me back,” Shisui speaks with a certain pitch of honesty that makes her fingers hesitate, pressure swimming inside him like a living thing and then it pops like a soap bubble

And Sakura just looks at him.

.

Time passes, it’s not quick like he wants it to be, but it’s easing the freshness of self-hate and self-pity. Itachi, is in better spirits, he’s gardening – _god help him_ – Uchiha Itachi is gardening, he’s planting eggplants and mushrooms now. It’s helping him, Mikoto-oba is teaching him the difference between growing food and flowers, and it’s just strange.

Itachi’s last memory of his mother is spilling blood on his hands, but for Mikoto, Itachi is still her baby and she would always forgive him.

Shisui wishes that he could make up with his mother like that.

But Shisui’s parents have been dead for years, so he tries not to feel guilty when he comes over for dinner, but he thinks it’s harder for Sasuke, Sasuke who craves for familial love and peace for so long.

He looks at his parents as if it’s a dream and it makes Shisui sigh a little.

One day.

One day it’ll be better.

.

“You need to do something,” Sakura tells him one day after his last check-up, she furrows her brows, “Your eyes are one hundred percent healed, don’t ask me how I managed to heal it because after popping those eyeballs in, I was sure that there was some damage I couldn’t heal—” she pauses to scribble something on his chart, “To make it short, you’re not going to end up blind.”

Shisui stares at her with raised brows, he sounds skeptical, “What?”

“I’ve studied the sharingan, well Kakashi-sensei’s for years,” She explains taking a seat on her chair – Kakashi-senpai, huh? – she flips her hair that reaches her shoulder bones behind her white medical coat, she clasps her hands, “And Sasuke and Itachi-san’s now, I’m still developing a theory as to how to prevent their blindness, but yours is a bit different.”

“How?”

Sakura scratches the back of her neck in a familiar Hatake movement, she grabs two pens from her coat and lift them in front of him, she asks him, “What do you see?”

He frowns, “Two pens.”

“What colors are they?”

“Black and blue,” he wonders if she’s going somewhere with this.

“Right, one is made from blackberry ink and the other is made from a silicone ink derived from shale,” Sakura uncaps both pens and scribbles a line on a piece of paper, “Now what’s the difference?”

Shisui stares, “The blue ink bleeds into the paper and the black ink is dry.”

“Right,” she nods, “Notice how the blue ink – the one that is man-made – smears, it drips and then it dries, but the black ink settles into the paper and dries almost immediately. The difference is just that.”

He blinks and tries to connect the analogy, “Chakra bleeds and the other doesn’t?”

Sakura’s smile catches him off guard, it makes his chest squeeze and tries to squash the feeling down, but he fingers shake despite himself. She tilts her head, “You’re close,” she places the pen back into her pocket, “You’re the black ink and the other Uchihas are the blue ink. Your chakra doesn’t bleed, it settles into your eyes and seeps back into your system. The other Uchihas chakra overflows, it covers their eyes and then it burns their pathways. That is what is causing them to go blind.”

Shisui attempts to digest that bit of information, he thinks that she’s kind of brilliant, because no one, no _outsider_ has come close to diagnosing that information, mainly because the clan doesn’t allow foreigners to breach into their kekkai genkai, but time doesn’t stand still for no one, because people are still healing and Fugaku-san – as both Tsunade-sama and Sakura had said that he can deal with their _fists,_ it made him laugh of course, but he wouldn’t tell her that _just_ yet – is kind of pain in the ass about politics.

“So, now what?”

Sea-foam orbs blinks, “What do you mean?”

“What are you going to about the blindness problem?” He asks.

Sakura shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Dojutsu is always a tricky thing to handle, because it keeps evolving, science can only keep up so much. Don’t get me wrong, I’m _going_ to do something, I just don’t know what.”

Shisui nods, “What does Sasuke say?”

“What is Sasuke going to do?”

“Itachi, then?”

“Itachi-san does not mind,” Sakura shifts her attention to her notes, “Sasuke is a lot more cooperative now that his brother is here.”

“Sasuke always did have a brother complex,” Shisui snorts.

Green eyes glitter, “He does?”

He smiles at her slightly – he wonders if she can hear the sound of his heart twisting in his chest – her eyes widen at the sight, he tells her, “Maybe, I’ll tell you about it one day.”

.

“I’ve told you—” Sakura scowls, her fist raising above her head, “To do your freakin’ _paperwork_ , you Icha Icha idiot! The Daimyo will be here in twenty minutes and you _still_ haven’t figured out a suitable candidate for the civilian district?”

“Now, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi tries to placate her with a gentle tone, his hands up in a defensive manner, “I remember that there was a small cat crossing the word, limping with a  broken leg and I just couldn’t—”

Shisui watches in awe as Sakura shatters the Hokage’s desk, the desk splintering into a thousand pieces and her heaving shoulders made her pink hair even longer, she scowls, “I am _confiscating_ all your books until the Daimyo leaves.”

Kakashi has the nerve to look horrified.

“Shikamaru,” Sakura growls, “Get the replacement desk from the backroom and make sure Tsunade-sama’s sake bottles are _out_ of the compartment drawers,” she sighs with exhaustion, “You would think being the Kage’s assistant things would get easier, but _no_ it just gets worse! And you,” she points towards Shisui when Shikamaru mutters something _troublesome_ , she narrows her eyes, “What are _you_ laughing at?”

Shisui doesn’t realize he’s grinning.

.

“Do you know how _long_ I’ve waited to eat this?” Naruto groans into his bowl, “Beef ramen will reign be superior.”

Ichiraku’s grand opening is today, the shop is bigger than it originally was, the seats are made of red leather and the salty smell of broth always feels like home to Naruto and he’s going to eat as much ramen as he _can_ —until Kakashi-sensei has to wheel him home or Sakura-chan, whoever is closer.

“Judging by the noodle in your hair, I have to say a long time,” Sakura replies with humor, her eyes twinkle and she steals a piece of Kakashi’s gyoza when he’s not looking.

“C’mon Sakura-chan, there’s nothing better than Teuchi-san’s ramen, right?” He retaliates and munches on a piece of beef.

“You know I like—”

“Tempura, we know, but it tastes like crap—” Naruto is cut off by the sound of Sakura’s chopsticks slapping against his mouth.

“I happen to like tempura, Naruto-kun,” Itachi’s voice interrupts their debate, he takes a seat next to Sasuke, orders miso-flavor and Shisui takes a seat next to Kakashi.

“But ramen—”

“Shut up, dobe,” Sasuke sighs and takes a bite of his pork.

Sakura steals another piece of gyoza from Kakashi’s plate, he gives her a one-eyed glare from the corner of his book and she smiles innocently, “Is there something you want to say, sensei?”

Shisui watches curiously.

“If you wanted a piece of gyoza, Sakura-chan, you should’ve ordered a plate,” He chastises her lightly.

She shrugs, “It tastes better from your plate, besides,” her eyes glint, “It’s not like you’re going to take off your mask in front of us, right?”

Naruto snickers and even Sasuke manages to look interested.

“I didn’t know my food tastes better in your mouth,” Kakashi says slowly.

Even Itachi, who has been derived of all human contact until recently, knows that Kakashi is _flirting_ with Sakura, even Naruto gapes, but Sakura doesn’t seem to notice – or at least she doesn’t show that she _does_ know – and sighs because she _knows_ this tactic, “You’re avoiding the question, sensei.”

“All you had to do is ask, Sakura-chan.”

Sasuke turns his head so quick that Itachi is sure he hears his bone crack.

“You’re going…to show us?” Sakura blinks.

Shisui stares at his senpai.

“No.”

She deflates and Shisui laughs.

.

Sakura doesn’t see Shisui very often, her work at the hospital keeps her busy, then there’s that new opening she’s starting in the civilian district and then she’s doing random missions in between. So, she really doesn’t have the _time,_ but Tsunade tells her that she will deal with this hospital so she can put all her effort into the new one that they’re constructing in the south district—with Ino’s help of course.

That frees up some of her time, because the new hospital is still under construction and she realizes just how much paperwork and legal work she has to go through just to move on to the next step in the building. Ino has her negotiation skills down to the teeth, but that’s mostly because blackmail is involved and her father works in T&I, so really she has her work cut out for her, and Sakura is prone to a more political and violent take on consulting—which is more of her type of thing anyway.

One day, Sasuke comes up to her and says, “Come to dinner.”

Sakura, who’s elbow deep in patient files in her new glass office, blinks, “What?”

“Come to dinner,” he repeats, “My family wants to meet my team,” he pauses and leans back against her wall, “Officially.”

It’s been six months since the war ended and Sasuke’s parents wants to meet her today, Naruto and her—today?

“Uh,” she says intelligently, “When?”

“Six today, main compound,” Sasuke pauses, “Do you have formal wear?”

“Yes?”

“Wear it.”

“Okay.”

Sakura adjusts her files and looks up to see him still there, “Sasuke?”

He looks at her.

“Go away.”

.

Sakura’s haori is a deep green haori, similar to that of her master and a black sleeveless kimono top tucked into civilian black pants, with a thin charcoal-colored obi, instead, she leaves her pink hair tucked in a loose braid and makes up for her femininity with dangly gold earrings.

She can’t afford to be too dressed up, mostly because she’s on-call at the hospital – God _knows_ where her shishou is – and she just doesn’t feel comfortable looking all that proper anymore.

“I thought I said formal wear?”

“Shut up, Sasuke,” Sakura huffs, she takes off her shoes and quips, “Do I say anything about your _hair_?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he frowns.

“Lots of things,” Shisui flickers over, his hair messy, “And she looks fine, Sasuke.”

Sakura smiles haughtily at her teammate, but Sasuke looks at his cousin strangely, as if he’s a stranger because, because _huh_?

“You look so pretty, Sakura-chan,” Naruto’s wearing a dress-shirt and slacks, even Sasuke has to do a double-take.

“How does the dobe look better than you, Sakura?”

Shisui isn’t sure who laughs first, him or Naruto, when Sakura hits the back of his head.

.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been studying the sharingan, Haruno-san,” Fugaku starts, his proud features tighten into that of knives.

Sakura refuses to feel inferior, she straightens her spine and Shisui watches with quiet surprise, “Yes, I am sure Tsunade-sama has spoken to you already.”

“Of course,” He says arrogantly, “And what of you? What is it that you have found?”

Mikoto watches her husband warily.

She doesn’t take the bait, instead, she tilts her head, “I have found lots of things, but doctor-patient confidentially prevents me from disclosing such details with outsiders.”

Fugaku’s eyes narrow and even Sasuke stills, “These are my children.”

“Yes,” Sakura agrees naturally, “They are, but they are of age. Clan law cannot coincide with hospital regulations, because hospital regulations take precedence, and because they were under _my_ jurisdiction in the hospital, their health is under _my_ care.”

“I’m not sure you understand, Haruno-san,” He says unkindly, as if he’s speaking to a child, Itachi looks at him, “Outsiders are not allowed to work on our dojutsu, it’s against the clan’s—”

“Unfortunately,” Sakura’s smile is sharp under the lights of the compound, “You have been dead for too long,” Naruto’s head whips to look at her, “You were planning a coup against our village, your clan is under scrutiny because your ancestors have waged a war against all of humanity, your son ran away to Orochimaru and Itachi was left as a scape goat,” chakra coils tight like a snake, “You do not have the _authority_ to tell me what to do. Repentance comes at a price, so don’t think you can push me around like a salt shaker,” green eyes are jade, “The Uchiha clan policies are annulled because of your sudden demise, you must rewrite and revise all framework, submit it to the council and then the Hokage must give his approval. Only then can you implement your clan laws.”

.

“Have you _lost_ your mind?” Sasuke hisses as soon as Sakura and Naruto exits the compound, “You’re challenging my father?”

“Sasuke I don’t think you get it,” Sakura snaps, “Your father can’t do shit because your clan is still under scrutiny from the war, it’ll take hell and high water for your clan to regain any sense of pride.”

Sasuke recoils as if he’s been slapped.

“After the edo tensai was lifted and Kabuto fucked up whatever he did,” she continues, “The Uchiha clan lost all its power because of the coup they planned, which is exactly why Itachi-san had to perform the massacre or did you forget?” she scowls even when the other two Uchiha walk over to them, “Your father has no power and if he tries to pretend like he did nothing wrong, do you know what will happen?”

Naruto speaks for her, “There will be a civil war.”

Sakura nods reverently, “And we cannot _afford_ a civil war. Do you understand?”

Sasuke scowls still and when Itachi presses a hand against his shoulder, he feels some of the tension disappear, some, but not all.

“You were very admirable, Sakura-san,” Itachi commends her because he know it’s not easy to go against his father, “My father couldn’t say anything to retaliate.”

“As if I’ll let anyone push _me_ around,” Sakura huffs.

“Where did you learn to play politics?” Shisui asks, he still feels like he’s in shock, because not everyone has the _balls_ to take on the head of the Uchiha clan.

“Tsunade-sama is my teacher,” She says, light pink wisps escape her braid, “Playing politics is what happens when you become the Hokage’s apprentice.”

.

She doesn’t know how it happens, but she thinks—she thinks, that she’s earn Uchiha Fugaku’s respect, because she’s invited to more and more dinners, he speaks of katon chakra and that different forms of fire is possible, sometimes it burns hotter and sometimes it tastes different.

That, is something she doesn’t understand, but Shisui clarifies it to her, “It’s kind of difficult to explain, but the Uchiha clan can taste chakra.”

Sakura blinks, “Taste?”

“Everyone can feel chakra. They can smell it if they’re sensitive enough,” he says, “But we can taste it, we taste as well as we smell—Itachi’s chakra tastes like ozone and smoke, emphasis on the smoke though.”

“Sasuke smells like ozone too,” she points out.

Shisui nods, “He tastes more of ozone than smoke, it’s similar because they’re both brothers, but one is more in tune with the other.”

Sakura frowns, “How strange,”

Mikoto laughs, “It’s not really, Sakura-chan. Our senses are just heightened.”

She suppose it makes sense, after all. Chakra nature seems to mirror their presence, she couldn’t help but wonder what her’s taste like. It’s not like she’s going to ask, because, somehow it feels intimate.

“Don’t you want to know what yours taste like?” Shisui asks suddenly, he could feel Sasuke’s eyes on him.

She stares at him for a little and she lies, “Not really.”

He quirks a brow, “Why not?”

“I assume elemental affinities mirror your chakra,” Sakura muses, “My chakra _taste_ probably reflects that, but I don’t really use elemental jutsu so I don’t think it would make much of a difference.”

It’s total bullshit by the way, but she doesn’t want Shisui opening his mouth and tasting her _chakra._

Or however, he’s supposed to do it.

Shisui laughs anyway because he’s so keen with emotions that he picks up her embarrassment and he just runs with it, “You taste like rain and the grass in summer.”

Sasuke doesn’t miss the way he omits the words: _your chakra_.

.

“Assassination?” Shisui raises a brow as he reads the mission assignment, fingers grasping the scroll.

“Yes, I don’t know how,” Kakashi shrugs, “But the drug business has been booming lately. The black market is getting bigger and people are trying to get shipment through Konoha’s border. He’s a member of one of the syndicate that runs opioid trade, killing him would destabilize his faction.”

Shisui nods.

“It has to look like he died of natural causes, no one can know Konoha has a mole in the syndicate,” Kakashi tells him and he crosses his arms, “I’m assigning a medic to your team.”

Genma blinks and turns to look at Raido who raises a brow.

A knock and Sakura peeks in, “Kakashi-sensei? Shizune said you called for me?”

Shisui stills, turns to look back and then blinks.

“Sakura-chan,” Kakashi smiles tightly, “Meet your ANBU squad.”

.

“I can’t believe Hokage-sama is letting you out of his sight,” Genma whistles, he tightens the strap of his bag.

She rolls her eyes, “Are you joking? Tsunade-sama had to quarrel with him for me to take missions.”

Shisui listens on and off as they banter back and forth. According to what Raido has told him, Sakura is a combat-medic, which he can’t say he’s _not_ surprised, because he kind of is, he thought she was like Shizune-san—a medic. Clearly, he’s been proven wrong.

“The syndicate’s main base is in Tanzuka Town,” Shisui tells them when they make camp, he is quiet as an ANBU captain – he’s always been soft-spoken, but there is steel in the way he holds himself – he demands authority, and it’s a direct contrast to the way he normally is—not the happy-go-lucky type of thing he usually spews, “The man who runs Konoha’s faction goes by the name Sora.”

“Just Sora?” Raido asks.

“Yes,” he pauses, “Infiltration is key. Boar set up the perimeter, we’ll be scouting tomorrow.”

.

Sakura stops the beat of his heart with one chakra infused fingertip and that makes every cell in Shisui’s body freeze.

It’s a little too easy, the way she slips in, she blends in with the civilian district – she said it didn’t matter because she came from civilians – she seduces her way up the big ladder and then she’s underground. She’s underground and the world is painted _black._

She straddles Sora’s lap, giggles stupidly, like she’s done that all her life and she kisses him with so much _heat_ that it makes his blood curdle in his veins, but then, then her fingers rake down his hair, down his chest and she taps his chest.

She taps his chest with her fingertip again.

Then she taps it with chakra.

And now, he’s dead.

.

Shisui doesn’t remember when he falls in love with Sakura, but he remembers when he’s on the brink of death – contrary to belief his body flicker is not infallible – he’s bleeding profusely and he’s pretty sure he punctured a lung, he remembers feeling this dark, velvet, red-blooded, hungry desire to _see_ Haruno Sakura in all her glory.

He believes it’s fitting, that she was the one that brought him to life and that she should be the one to see him leave.

But Haruno Sakura is nothing but stubborn, so she holds onto him and never lets him go.

He thinks he’s in love with her, just a little bit more.

.

 


	2. due

Sakura remembers the first time she watched Shisui fight. It was the same day he almost got himself killed. He was there and then he _wasn’t._ Shisui’s body flicker is confusing. That’s the only way she’s been able to describe it since. It’s not like the normal shunshin where you just suddenly evaporate, no, Shisui uses _clones._ Shadow clones to be precise and it looks like he’s all over the place, but he’s really _not._ Unless, he is and it’s just blurred movement she’s looking at, but her brain can’t perceive all that information just _that_ quickly and then he’s bleeding out in front of her.

_Chakra wires._

She swears violently and places two hands on his chest, pumping chakra into his cells and sealing veins.

“You’re so _stupid_ ,” she hisses and her hands press harder into his sternum, “I told you _not_ to use your sharingan!”

Shisui, who is dizzy from the blood loss and baffled by her insult, tries to defend himself, “It was instinct.”

“Instinct _my ass_ ,” Sakura spat, her fingers dipped into the seam of his gash and she stitches with no hesitation, “There is a _reason_ I told you not to use it! Even though you don’t have any physical damage to your eyes, there’s always the mental and neural factors we have to consider! But _no,_ I need to use my sharingan because I’m an _Uchiha_ —!” her voice cuts off into a growl and she digs her fingers into his gash, green eyes narrow, “I’m taking your ass _off_ the mission roster.”

Shisui’s coherent enough to understand and he laughs at her irritation with disbelief, “Anything you want.”

He did not intend for the message to come out as breathy as it did, but the fact was, that it did come across as breathy, as airy, as light, as tangible and it hums in the air unanswered. Intimate.

Sakura’s hands hitch against his chest and then she sets his bones.

.

“Go away,” Sakura scowls, tucking her feet underneath her desk, she attempts to make herself look as busy as possible, because there is always fucking paperwork – judging from the stack in the corner of her room, she has at least four days’ worth to mow through – and dammit, now she really _has_ to do paperwork.

“Um, Haruno-sama,” Mimi, one of the nurses peeks in, she stumbles over her words, “Patient two-four-seven-eight is giving trouble again.”

Sakura rakes her head to put a picture to the number.

_Oh._

“Really?” she asks warily, because patient two-four-seven-eight isn’t known for being particularly difficult.

Mimi smiles tiredly, “Yes, he’s refusing his medication and does not want anyone touching his eyes.”

Sakura’s lips thin, she could understand not wanting anyone to touch his eyes, but his _medication_? He’s a masochist, that’s the only word she can think of to use against him. Her heels clack against the white-tiled floor with irritation – she wishes she wore her black steel-toed boots to give patient two-four-seven-eight a kick in his _face_ – her hands latch onto the door and she nearly flings the door off the hinges.

Shisui snaps his attention to the door and he stares at her for a moment. He then settles into a casual pose. A knee underneath his chin, his back against the pillow, black hair messy, tousled, strands carelessly brushing underneath his eye and his mouth curled into a small half-smile.

“Is there a _reason_ you’re being such a pain in the ass?” Sakura grits, even after she checked him out – though she’d never admitted to _that_ – it’s all purely professional, she defends.

Shisui carefully brings his wrist up to eye level, blue string attached to the metal rail glows like candlelight, he asks, “Are the chakra restraints really necessary?”

“No,” she crosses her arms and smirks, “It’s purely for my own amusement.”

He narrows his eyes.

“That and you broke four of your ribs,” Sakura states blandly, grabbing his medical chart at the foot of the bed, she reads over his vitals before continuing, “You overused your sharingan, and no it’s not damaged, but,” she puts his chart back, “But, you have exhausted your chakra, I don’t know _what_ you did, but you put a strain on your chakra system and you _need_ to rest.”

Shisui stares at her and then frowns, “I can rest at home.”

“No.”

He sighs with exasperation, “Sakura-san it’s—”

And it’s very, very _strange_ the way he says her name, because, this is the first time he’s addressed her by that. Like. Ever. He even attaches the honorific, even though she doesn’t use it for him and — why is she _still_ thinking about this?

“Look, I get the hospital isn’t the ideal place,” Sakura smiles now, it’s sharper, she leans over and tells him, “But you should’ve heeded my orders when I gave you medical instructions.”

“I didn’t know you were such a stickler for authority,” he muses with a quirk of a brow, his hair brushes the side of his temple and he smells like _fire_.

She doesn’t take the bait, she leans a little closer, just to bask in his scent, “You’re staying put,” she allows her eyes to flicker over to his IV bag, “And take your damn medication, Uchiha!”

.

He stays, but he doesn’t take his medication.

“Why must you be difficult?” Sakura strides into the room, she looks haggard, like she’s clinging to the last strands of consciousness and it makes him frown.

She has less than a quarter of chakra left – regardless of her yin seal – and it’s fluctuating between frustration and exhaustion.

“I don’t like morphine,” Shisui says suddenly, his eyes narrow with displeasure, “You need to rest.”

“It’s supposed to help you with your pain so you can sleep,” Sakura pauses her rant, “What?”

“You look exhausted,” he says bluntly.

She scowls, “You could’ve just said I look like hell.”

Shisui smirks a little – she tries not to stare too hard because surely, he’s not _flirting?_ Because Shisui smiles and laughs and jokes, but smirking? Smug, masculine, haughty Uchiha _smirking_? That’s different – he scratches the back of his head and replies, “I was trying to be nice.”

“You’re a disruptive patient,” Sakura deadpans, “And now you’re trying to be nice?”

Shisui frowns but does not reply.

She must be very, very tried to feel this guilty. She’s tired, she’s exhausted and the hospital is severely understaffed. She doesn’t have the time to coddle anyone, especially patients that are being difficult on purpose, and it’s not like she _meant_ to snap at Shisui that bitchy. She inwardly sighs, she really needs a vacation.

She looks over his chart and her mouth itches to apologize, but her pride wouldn’t let her. Sakura turns her head to ask him something, she thinks she turns too quickly because the world is spinning and her heartbeat thrummed like thunder in her ears.

It’s warm now.

Her arms are warm now, she blinks – how many times does she have to blink before the white spots disappear – her vision clears like lake water and she looks directly into the eyes of Uchiha Shisui.

His hands are grasping her forearms, she – when did he pull her onto the bed? – sits in the small pocket of space between his bent knee and leg that rests against the floor. She shifts her weight to her hips, her lower back brushing against his calf and blinks again.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, pillowy and coal orbs glint with concern. His eyes are dark, so dark that she could barely tell where his iris and pupils began.

“Fine,” Sakura says automatically.

Shisui’s lips press together harshly.

She tries not to wince because she _knows_ he’s just concerned, so she attempts to placate him, “Just moved too fast.”

“You need to rest,” He exhales, his hands drag down her forearms until he’s holding her hands, “When did you last eat?”

Sakura blinks and tries to think back to her last meal. She’s sure she had breakfast because she had breakfast with Kakashi-sensei, but her brain was skipping out on lunch? Did she bother to eat lunch? No, because Neji’s ANBU squad came back and there was so much _blood_ —

“Judging from that frown, I assume a long time ago,” Shisui glares at her, “Aren’t you supposed to be a medic?”

Sakura’s jaw clenches, “I have _been_ busy—”

She cuts herself off when Shisui presses the button for one of the nurses, his other hand still holding her’s, she stares at him strangely, and then Mimi enters. He tells her, without looking away from Sakura, “I’ll have dinner now and bring a plate for Sakura.”

Her pulse jumps at the lack of honorific.

And she thinks he did it on purpose because his thumb swipes over her wrist.

He felt it too.

.

Shisui is discharged from the hospital but isn’t cleared for mission duty until another week and he feels so _bored._

“Shisui,” Itachi greets as he enters the main compound, “Kaa-chan would like it if you came for lunch.”

“I’ll try and stop by,” He nods, looking over to his younger cousin, he asks, “Itachi, what do you think about Sakura-san?”

“Sakura-san?” Itachi blinks, he looks at his cousin strangely, he answers after a few moments, “She’s a very good medic, she’s intelligent, and my parents adore her.”

Shisui stares at him with something akin to exasperation, “I meant as a person, Itachi.”

Itachi isn’t exactly sure how to answer the question, he frowns, “She’s a good person, Shisui,” he pauses, “If you really want to know, you could ask Sasuke. He’s her teammate.”

He sighs, “I know.”

_Oh._

“Unless,” Itachi tries not to smile, “Unless, you don’t want to _ask_ Sasuke.”

Shisui narrows his eyes, “I can always call Izumi-chan.”

Stalemate.

.

“I’m exhausted,” Sakura groans, she buries herself onto Naruto’s person in the Uchiha living room, her head digging into his lower back, arms flailing on the carpet, and her legs tucked underneath the couch.

“You’ve been working yourself into the ground, Sakura-chan,” he says, head lolling over the pillow.

“There are so many people that need treatment,” she replies, “Long-term treatment, the after-effects of the war are just so—”

“I know,” he says just as quietly.

That’s how Sasuke finds them, laying in his living room, without an invitation, just taking up space in the middle of his house, he asks with incredulity, “What are you doing?”

“Laying on the floor,” Naruto says dryly.

“But _why?_ ”

“Because it’s hot and the floor is cold,” Sakura interjects brightly, she gives him a one-eyed glare and rolls over until her eyes face the ceiling. Truthfully, since the war has ended, Sakura doesn’t know how she got into the swing of things, especially regarding Sasuke, because she never really _knew_ Sasuke, perhaps she did, but, she doesn’t know him like how Naruto _knows_ him.

So she treats him like how she treats every member of her team, like—like a friend.

And it’s so _strange_ because Sasuke was never really her _friend._

.

“Sakura, slow down or you’re going to choke,” Ino wrinkles her nose with disgust, she watches her best friend stuff herself with rice, curry, and gyoza.

“But I’m so _hungry,_ ” Sakura breathes, she feels like she hasn’t eaten in days when really it’s been only twenty-four hours, twenty-four hours of pure torture – and no soldier pills do _not_ count – and it’s just a _really_ long day.

“And you call me a pig.”

She shrugs happy to scarf her throat with even more rice, after she feels like her stomach isn’t going to jump out and start attacking people, only then does she lean back into her chair and sip her tea, “Ugh, I feel like I can live now.”

Ino hums, she decides to change the topic, “So, what’s up?”

“Reconstructing Konoha, setting up a hospital – which by the way you have to decide on the color scheme – and attempting to bond with my teammates,” Sakura answers honestly, “I haven’t seen Sai lately.”

The blonde feigns ignorance, “Really?”

Sakura narrows her eyes, “Ino, where is Sai?”

“T&I,” she says, “Missions—but, why haven’t you been talking to him?”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Ino looks at her, slightly angry, “He says that you’ve basically dumped him for Sasuke.”

Sakura gapes, “I have _not_! I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve been _busy._ I practically live at the hospital and with that _stupid_ Uchiha just running around like he hasn’t been _dead_ for like twenty years—”

“What Uchiha?”

She stills.

Ino’s blue eyes narrow, a smirk curling onto her lips, “Oh.”

.

Sakura caves.

It’s _not_ her fault, she’s just tired and emotionally drained, and Ino took advantage of her weakened mental state and dragged her to the nearest bar. But first, she dressed her up like how a nineteen-year-old should be dressed and shoved her into the tightest black dress the Yamanaka heiress owned.

“We’re getting drunk,” Ino says blithely, she grabs a bottle of sake and starts pouring, “We haven’t celebrated since the war ended—nobody has celebrated the ending of the war and well, now is that time.”

“I completely agree with you,” Sakura nods and downs her first glass. The war has left her emotionally drained, tired, because there is always something to do and for that, she should be grateful, she should be happy, because she is useful, because she is needed. But her life has always been more about working and working, and not living.

The bar fills up with more and more shinobi as the light burns into vermillion and Sakura twirls in her seat drinking sake until the lights look more like stars than do motionless.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Shisui’s voice comes from behind her, his chakra like prickly, like embers burning in the forest.

She turns her head to face him and cocks an eyebrow, “Is that an Uchiha joke?”

He smiles secretly, “Is it?”

“I thought Uchihas don’t take part in social events,” Sakura points out dryly, her eyes are glazed, sea-foam smoke and gloss.

Shisui takes a seat next to her, the empty bar stool just looking at her, his knees brush her’s and sips his sake like it’s candy, “Do I seem like a typical Uchiha?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she blinks at his warmth, “I don’t exactly know you.”

He tries to act like that comment didn’t hurt him, his hair is like wildflowers, and his voice deepens into that of rolling thunder, “You could.”

Sakura stares at him—stares at him like, like she doesn’t know what to say. Maybe she drank a lot more than she realized or maybe she didn’t metabolize the alcohol as fast as she wanted, something, it’s something, “You—you’re being weird.”

“ _I’m_ being weird?”

“You’re not allowed to use my quirks against me.”

Shisui tries not to laugh, “I thought you didn’t know me.”

The tip of Sakura’s tongue brushes the roof of her mouth and he watches her with liquid mercury burning in his eyes, “I thought so too.”

Shisui takes his time, reaching for her, fingers tangling in her hair, brushing soft pink hair from her face, fingertips brushing the side of her cheek, lightly trailing down the side of her neck, and then he asks quietly, like a promise, like a whisper, his voice reaching only her ears, and he couldn’t care for the people in the bar that threw them looks, “Want to know me better?”

.

Sakura blames the alcohol, she blames her exhaustion, she blames her tightly unrestrained emotions because she’s pressed flushed against his doorframe, his lips pressing against her’s and he’s kissing her like he’s the only thing she needs to breathe.

Shisui tastes like fire. Fire that burns forests, that burns building, fire that burns through _bones_ and it’s making her dizzy with the taste. He’s so broad, his shoulders shielding her from any light, from the world and he lifts her with strong hands.

She hums when his teeth scrape down her neck, nibbling on her clavicle and she digs her heels into his lower back.

“You okay?” he rasps when her fingers rake down the back of his neck, she bites underneath his jaw and gasps when she sucks.

“Bed,” she whispers and her voice carries in the air like silk.

.

The first time they have sex it’s a whirlwind because she’s drunk and he’s drunk – well she thinks he is because he stumbles, what kind of Uchiha stumbles into the bedroom? – everything muddles into color and flashes of hot, white light. She thinks it’s a little bit of curiosity and a whole lot of attraction that draws them together, she wouldn’t lie. Shisui is a gorgeous _gorgeous_ gorgeous man and he’s not emotionally stunted as the rest of the clan – at least she doesn’t think so – and he’s so damn _charming—_ she kind of hates him for it.

Sakura wakes up to pressure in her head, she groans and buries herself closer to the source of warmth. She has vague memories of the night, his mouth on her breasts, fingers digging into her hips, teeth at her ankles, hand in her hair, and the taste of his mouth lingers in hers. Recollection spills over like sunlight and she tries not to wince when she feels the heat source shift.

Sakura finds herself flat on her back, her eyes snap open and then she really does wince when the sun hits her retinas, but Shisui looks like he’s barely affected by the ball of fire, his mouth presses against her throat and he makes his way up to her mouth.

Sharp nips, languid licks and when he kisses her—when he _kisses_ her, it’s like he wants to _devour_ her. He doesn’t care for her morning breath, he wants her in her rawest form. Head mussy from sleep, eyes glassy with stars and her body lax from rest.

“Good morning,” Shisui greets her quietly, his voice is rough from his kiss and his fingers are mischievous when they cup her breasts.

“Morning?” Sakura’s voice catches into a soft whine when his thumbs catch her nipples, fingernails scratching the flesh and she catches his smile when her hips arch.

Shisui doesn’t let her go, he doesn’t wait for her to form her own conclusions, no, he keeps in her in his bed until her legs lose the will to move.

.

“Okay, these are Mikoto-sama’s rice balls,” Sakura tells him a matter-of-factly, she can’t cross her legs because Shisui is adamant in keeping his hard muscly thigh in between hers as she sits perch on him, the pressure of it all makes her ache wantonly, a gentle reminder of what had happened not even two hours ago. She’s not even wearing underwear, just his shirt because she’s _cold_ and, “There’s no way _you_ made these.”

“Do you think Mikoto-obaa is the only person who knows how to make them?” Shisui laughs, his hands roam underneath her shirt, palms splayed across her lower back.

Sakura pauses at that, “No?”

“I made these,” he affirms, thumbs digging into the dimples at the base of her spine, “I tried umeboshi instead of seaweed.”

She hums at the soothing motions of his fingers rather than her thoughts, she sips her tea and finishes her breakfast, “I like umeboshi.”

“I noticed,” Shisui comments lightly, he slides his shirt off of her, and cups her breasts. His mouth warm at the back of her neck and he nibbles, “I’ll make you some more later.”

And just like that, he pushes her head first into the table. His mouth raking coals down her spine, she whimpers when he bites randomly over the expanse of her back, her thighs tightening over his and she squirms.

“I want tempura,” Sakura groans when his thumbs do that thing against her nipples. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she likes when he manhandles her – like he doesn’t know what position he wants to see her in, it makes her feel sexy, _he_ makes her feel sexy, especially when he flips her upside down, thighs over his shoulders, head digging into the carpet and his mouth sealed against the seam of her sex.

Shisui’s hands squeeze her thighs, a harsh nip against her thigh and he lets his tongue slide in between her folds, his mouth is hot, “I want you.”

Because he really does.

.

Sakura doesn’t question her sanity when he swings by during her break, pushes her into her office, seals the room with his own type of fūinjutsu and proceeds to send her brain into overdrive. Shisui loves kissing her, he loves how she tastes, how she responds, how the silk of her lips smile when he cups her bottom and he pushes her against the wall.

Shisui is a whole two heads taller than her, so he lifts her fingers swiping over her underwear, pulling the fabric to the side and fingers her until she’s trembling against him fiercely.

She breathes sweetly, “Shisui.”

“Hold on,” He tells her, he slips inside her like she’s _home_ and he _never_ wants to leave.

Shisui rocks into her slowly at first, then he takes her higher and higher by swiftly thrusting into her his mouth dancing over her’s and she’s churning and squeezing him so _tightly_ that he moans against her mouth, “Sakura.”

Sakura doesn’t get why guys think it’s so un-masculine to moan or groan or make noise when they have sex—it’s so dumb, she thinks. But Shisui has no types of inhibitions, no, he loves the way she makes him feel and he doesn’t hold back on her accord. He _wants_ her to know how good she makes him feel. He moans and swears so gently in her ear that her spine feels like it might _melt_ , because Shisui is just so, so damn _beautiful_ and she comes _violently._

Shisui’s tongue is stroking the sides of her throat and she’s so _dizzy_ from the lack of air. He pulls back and slams into her, his own essence spilling into her like rain, “Mm.”

Sakura’s knees weaken when he pulls out of her, her fingers are shaking and she looks positively dazed. He chuckles at her face, but cleans her up and helps her sit on the couches of her office. He pulls out two bento boxes from his pack and watches her eat.

Shisui makes sure she eats and drinks—he makes sure she’s taken care of and then he kisses her goodbye when her break is over.

Sakura tries not to smile when he leaves.

.

“So, Uchiha Shisui huh?” Ino waggles her eyebrows and smirks deviously.

“I guess,” Sakura tries to be nonchalant, but really, she’s like glass and light is peeking through the cracks.

“Tell me!”

She wrinkles her nose, “We’re sleeping together.”

Ino blinks, that, is actually _not_ the answer she’s looking for, because this is Sakura and Sakura can’t do a relationship without emotions, it’s like not a _thing._ She crosses her arms and frowns, “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” she says, “We have sex and he makes me breakfast,” she pauses, “Sometimes he brings me lunch at work and sometimes I see him when I visit Sasuke.”

Ino stares, that doesn’t _sound_ like a friends with benefits type of relationship, Shisui has a lot more for respect for women than Sasuke for sure, but, she tilts her head, “So you’re like dating?”

Sakura stares this time, she feels perplexed, “I don’t think so?”

“You don’t know?”

“Well every time I talk to him,” she frowns, “It doesn’t come up.”

“Well, what do you talk about?” Ino inquires.

“Lots of things. Training, his clan, jutsus, chakra, medicine, books, everything really,” Sakura answers her honestly, “I don’t want to bring it up. I mean I don’t think I have to, because…”

“Because?” she presses.

“Because he always comes back to me,” Sakura smiles, “And I think that’s enough for me.”

.

Sakura is _lying_ through her fucking _teeth_ when she says she doesn’t _want_ to know what she and Shisui have become. Of _course,_ she wants to know what they’ve become, but she’s afraid. She’s a coward, because love has eluded her when she went searching for it, she doesn’t have the courage to ask, she doesn’t have the bravery to look him in the eye and really _ask._ She needs to be happy with what they have, she _wants_ to be happy with what they already have, she can’t be fucking it up by needing a _definition_ —she pales when she realized, she’s turning into Kakashi-sensei. Soon she’ll be reading porn books and adopting dogs.

“I can hear you thinking from the other side of the room,” Shisui quirks his lips up when she turns her head, he takes a seat next to her, tossing his ANBU mask on the desk beside her and pulls her to his chest, “What’s up?”

She lies, “I’m thinking about transplants.”

“Transplants?” he frowns, “For the sharingan?”

“You’re kind of smart,” she replies dryly.

Shisui digs his fingers into her ribs, she squeals and sprawls into his lap and she gasps more than she laughs, and he replies, “That was mean.”

“I _am_ mean.”

“No you’re not,” he snorts and presses a kiss behind her ear, “What about transplants?”

“If the sharingan is activated by trauma, blindness happens when you overuse the sharingan, because of chakra burns, but, if you exchange eyes or you know rewire them to the brain, the eyes won’t recognize the body and burn into the brain because even though the eyes are compatible they aren’t _that_ compatible.”

“What are you getting at?” Shisui asks, fingers twisting her hair.

Sakura inhales, “If I do a cross-transplant, I might be able to stop the chakra burns.”

His fingers pause mid-stroke, “You can stop their blindness?”

“It’s just a theory,” she warns him, “I’m not really sure. I would have to do a bit more research, but,” emerald orbs latch onto obsidian glass, “I might be able to.”

Shisui leans down and kisses her.

And it’s so gentle that she feels her heart twist in her chest.

.

“Happy birthday, Naruto!” Sakura hugs her blonde-idiot with the strength of a thousand mother bears, she ruffles his hair and grins at his smile. She grabs the envelope from her purse, “I got you a coupon for one year of unlimited Ichiraku ramen.”

“Sakura-chan,” he sniffles, watery blue eyes glinting underneath the lights, “You’re the best.”

She winks, “I know.”

“Where’s your humility, Sakura-chan?” Kakashi asks, his eye crinkles as he pats Naruto on the back and hands him his gift.

“I left it with my three cups of sake,” she nods pleasantly buzzed, “I thought you had a meeting with Daimyo?”

“Ah, but Naruto is my student,” he shrugs, “Can’t miss his birthday.”

She narrows her eyes, “You’re lying.”

“Give it a rest Sakura,” Shikamaru groans from the side of the bar, he pours himself another cup of sake, “Hokage-sama left him with a clone.”

Sakura blinks, “You did _what_?”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Kakashi feigns surprise, he points to the other side of the room, “A poor old lady looks like she needs my help, and I, as Hokage, cannot let such a woman go on in distress.”

“We should burn his books,” Sasuke says when Kakashi disappears.

“We tried to see his face before, what makes you think we can get his books?” Sakura snorts, then she raises a brow, “Since when do you pull pranks?”

“Actually,” Sai, who appears randomly, looks at the Uchiha, “Naruto and I have been trying to decondition traitor’s emotionally constipated behavior – as Ino-chan called it before – into something relatively human – as my book says – he appears to be working properly.”

Sakura is too stunned to laugh, instead, she hugs him and smiles, “I haven’t seen you in a while, Sai-chan.”

Sai, smiles, a lot truer than his fake ones, “I’ve been doing border patrol for a while, as you’ve been busy with the hospital, hag.”

“What did you call her?” Shisui arrives with Itachi in tow, he raises a brow in disbelief.

“Hag,” Sai repeats.

He stares, his mouth twisting into a frown before asking with an edge, “Why?”

“I call her Ugly too,” he pauses, “Nicknames are common between friends or are you like the traitor here and are emotionally constipated?”

Sakura is too shocked to laugh at that comment, because Shisui’s chakra is curling darkly, like the first crack of a firestorm, she mutters, “Sai—”

“In what _world_ is Sakura ugly?” Shisui demands.

Sakura has to stop down the urge to smile like a goddamn _idiot_ and do so damage control, she coughs, “It’s just how he is, ROOT and all that.”

“Degortory nicknames aren’t very friendly,” Itachi points out and then he flinches at the sound of ROOT, “I see.”

“What does it matter of Sai calls her Ugly?” Sasuke asks with a brow.

“Because she isn’t,” Shisui says bluntly.

Sakura does not like how this conversation is heading, because the cogs are turning in Naruto’s head and Sasuke even does a double take, she needs more sake to deal with this brewing storm, or whatever the hell this is.

.

“Trouble in paradise?” Yoko—Yura—Yuki? Is that his name? He asks her as she orders another drink, he’s an ANBU hunter-nin, she treated him last month. His elbow brushes hers and he smiles at her.

“What are you talking about?” Sakura asks with a raised brow.

“The Uchiha triad.”

“They’re always like that,” she huffs, his orange-colored orbs remind her of marmalade and she blinks rapidly, “Why?”

“ANBU wants to know if you’ve cleared Uchiha-taichou for missions.”

“In a week,” she bites the inside of her cheek.

“What about you?”

She looks at him, “What about me?”

“Are you going to accept my offer?”

“I don’t remember being asked anything.”

Yuki rolls his eyes, “I asked if I could buy you a drink.”

“When did you ask this?”

“Just now.”

Sakura could hardly believe her own ears, this man’s audacity is _ridiculous,_ she blames her inebriated state from punching this man into outer space, but she stares at him like he’s _stupid_. She shakes her head, “I’m fine.”

“I insist.”

“Why are you here?” she’s grouchy, but he’s annoying.

Yuki doesn’t seem to understand the question.

“It’s Naruto’s birthday,” Sakura clarifies, “You don’t _know_ Naruto.”

Right?

“Are you sure?” Orange turns into amber, his fingers run up the back of her spine and she’s not sure if he’s _seriously_ putting the moves on her because _what the fuck._

Sakura’s mildly uncomfortable with his fingers, her reflexes are a little slow, but she’s in too much shock to properly react because only an _idiot_ would hit on her with her teammates within the same vicinity, she shifts, “Look—”

“What are you doing?” Shisui’s appears out of thin air – he really _does_ appear out of thin air because he’s _Shisui no Shunshin_ – he glances at the fingers on her back and scowls, he repeats the question when his _appendages_ don’t leave her back, his voice drops to a certain darkness that makes her gasp, “ _What_ are you doing?”

“Uchiha-taichou,” Yuki blinks up at him, “I didn’t realize you would be here.”

Shisui is suddenly behind her, an arm around her waist, he tugs her until her back is flat against his chest, and Yuki’s hand drops to the bar stool and he _stares._

“I’m starting to realize,” Shisui bites back, his hand trails up and splays across her ribs in a comforting manner, “I didn’t realize you were so popular, Sakura.”

When Shisui dropped the honorific attached to her name, she hadn’t realized how _intimate_ he could make her first name sound, like he _knows_ her—like she belongs to him and what is _he_ doing? He’s touching her in _public_!

His hands are on her person.

“Shisui,” Sakura’s voice sounds dry or is she terrified, she’s not sure, “I thought you were with Sasuke.”

“Why would I be there?” he leans down to look at her.

“Uh,” she stammers—and wow, she really _is_ drunk, because he’s looking at her with those _eyes_ of his and his lips are right _there_ —

“I didn’t know you were involved with Sakura, Uchiha-taichou,” Yuki feels slightly out of touch and he keeps his hands to himself.

Sakura is very aware of everyone’s eyes on her, him—them. Shisui’s hand tighten around her torso – Kakashi-sensei’s eyes narrow – he leans over and presses a kiss to her hair, “Now you know.”

_Oh._

Definitions are just not really their style, she muses.

Sakura hides a smile into his chest.

. 


	3. tre

“Shisui,” Sakura’s breath hitches, her hands are shaking as she grasps her bedsheets, a white-knuckled grip tightening on cotton sheets as her hips twist on the mattress, she groans, “Stop _teasing_ , you bastard.”

Shisui’s chuckle vibrates at the apex of her thighs. His tongue lightly traces her clit, a tickle at most, the barest of pressures as he brushes over her, dipping inside and twisting before pulling back to pepper kisses underneath her navel, his hands firmly gripping her thighs, “You like it.”

“I’m so close,” she whined, hips arching as she squirms when his teeth graze her outer lips and she whimpers, “ _Shi_ —” her voice trails into incoherent mumbles when he latches onto her clit and _sucks._

Sakura doesn’t remember coming—but something snaps in her like a broken cherry tree, she writhes violently and screams when her vision dots into black spots. Shisui holds her still and drinks from her until she’s flinching in overstimulation.

“How do you have so much energy?” she manages to exhale when he enters her in one smooth thrust, her inner walls jumping at the suddenness and rawness of his movements. Eyes half-lidded, she stares at him hazily as he settles into her like she’s something comforting.

“You bring out the best on me,” Shisui laughs lightly when she swats him half-heartedly, tossing her thighs over his shoulders he moves into her carefully, still aware of her sensitivity from her previous orgasm, he starts slow and deep, just the way she likes it. She likes it when he holds her legs above his shoulders and rolls hips into her deliberately. Heat coiling in her stomach like a simmering flame and she moans when swivels into her.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Sakura breathes, her eyes glazing over when he grinds into her, “ _Shisui_.”

“No you don’t,” he counters and groans when she squeezes him sweetly, “I made sure the hospital gave you some days off.”

“What does that mean?” She blinks incredulously, it’s hard to stay mad at him when he moves his hips like _that._

Shisui’s eyes are so dark, midnight black, and liquid cobalt, he kisses her with tongue and teeth, “It means that you’re _mine_ for the next three days.”

.

“You’re disgustingly happy,” Ino comments and wrinkles her nose because Sakura is _humming_. She arranges her bouquet distractedly and pushes it to the side of the counter, pressing a hand underneath her chin, she looks at her best friend, “It’s weird.”

“It’s weird to see me happy?” Sakura raises a brow.

It sounds bad, Ino muses. She shrugs, blue eyes glittering, “It’s different. Good, but different.”

“I see,” she looks perplexed.

“So you are?”

“What?”

Ino rolls her eyes, “Happy?”

Sakura’s eyes are gentle and she smiles, “Really, really happy.”

Ino is blown away by her honesty, the gentleness in her eyes and it feels like a weight falls off her shoulders. She grins, genuine and elated, “Finally.”

.

“What kind of person willingly gives away cake?” Sakura asks aghast, she looks over at her countertop, the lemon cake staring at her lustily, vanilla cream and strawberry. Deciding that she should not deny herself such a delicacy, she lifts a finger, scoops up a dollop of cream and sucks it clean.

Shisui watches her completely entranced by the way her finger disappears, the way her eyes lose focus over the sweetness of the cream and the sudden hollowness of her cheeks, his voice drops into gravel, “Sasuke.”

Sakura blinks at the roughness and she states bluntly, “Your cousin is an idiot.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” he chuckles and takes a bite out of the strawberry, his eyes widen, “Okay this _is_ really good.”

She laughs, scoops up more cream and stares at him with a certain glint, “I _know._ I think it’s lemon cake? I hope it is because I need to _eat_ it—” she cuts herself off with a groan when she takes a bite out of the sponge cake, “Oh _yes._ ”

That sound?

That sound became Shisui’s breaking point because he snaps open her vest, yanks off her skirt and smears her skin with two handfuls of cream. He doesn’t wait for her to register his actions because he uses shunshin to toss her on the carpet of her dining room.

“Sakura,” Shisui hisses because his blood feels like it’s on _fire,_ tongue dipping over her breasts, “You’re testing my patience.”

And she laughs like a gem, her voice teasing, “ _Just_ your patience?”

Sakura’s fingers are in his hair and she brings up for a kiss when he realizes that she’s doing _this_ – whatever this is – on purpose, Shisui murmurs voice full of purpose and sparkle, “I’m going to _eat_ you.”

Her tongue, sly and cheeky, grazes down his jaw, her voice rough and sweet as Sakura chuckles, “Not if I eat you first.”

.

“You’re the most _annoying_ Uchiha I have _ever_ met!” Sakura growls as she snaps her hand and flings a tree at him.

“You’re just upset you can’t keep up!” Shisui goads her with a grin and uses shunshin to reach behind her. His fingers make a jabbing motion as he presses his fingers forward, then he flickers to the left and jabs her in the ribs.

“Not all of us have dojutsu,” she snaps, flinging kunai with chakra threads at him, she reels it back and hits the right side of her—nicking his arms.

The unexpected is the unexpected underneath.

Perched on a tree, a few hundred feet away, a blonde and his dark-haired best friend watches the scene in front of them. “One hundred ryo Sakura-chan wins,” Naruto whispers to Sasuke.

Sasuke snorts because it’s Sakura, “Five hundred on Shisui.”

“I think the hag is going to take this one,” Sai appears next to them, “Eight hundred she wins.”

Naruto sputters, “What are you doing here, Sai?”

“I was looking for Hokage-sama, his chakra signature lead me here and now it’s gone,” he replies automatically, then he raises an eyebrow, “Have you seen Hokage-sama?”

“Not since my birthday party,” Naruto furrows his brows and then he grumbles with annoyance, “Though I doubt anyone remembers what happened that night.”

“Shouldn’t he be in the Hokage tower?” Sasuke blinks.

“Hokage-sama doesn’t follow protocol,” Sai says dryly.

The blonde sighs, “Then where the hell is he—”

“—dammit Shisui! Stay still!” Sakura growls, finally managing to grab his arm, she flings him into the earth, then throws her weight into her fist trying to pin his _stupid,_ smug face into the ground because he’s so _annoying_ —!

“That defeats the purpose!” Shisui yells and dodges the elbow to his gut.

His damn _shunshin_ is the problem.

If Sakura could somehow cut his speed down in half, she would take him and take him down. She counters his next movement by layering genjutsu over that section, spiderwebs – a subtle water ninjutsu – covered the chakra of the genjutsu and it’s by sheer luck does he manage to tangle himself in the illusion.

Sakura doesn’t waste any time, she grabs his arms immobilizing them with her chakra scalpels and slams his body onto the ground. Her knees tighten against his waist just as he breaks out of the genjutsu, sharingan burgundy as he blinks at the scene in front of him or in this case, on him.

She grins, “I win.”

“That was a dirty trick,” Shisui scowls, he wiggles underneath her and she shifts her weight to rest against his hips.

“I don’t get how a sharingan user gets caught in a genjutsu,” Sakura laughs and squeals when he lifts his hips up.

“You did something to it.”

“I just layered a water ninjutsu over it,” she wiggles on him purposefully, “It’s not _my_ fault.”

“And my arms?”

“Chakra scalpels,” she sniffs, “All nerve endings and muscles have lost all function.”

Shisui’s sharingan-colored eyes look at her in disbelief, “Well, are you going to put them back?”

“Are you going to concede defeat?”

He glares at her.

Sakura purposefully grinds over his lap and cocks an eyebrow at the hitch in his throat, “I can stay like this _all_ day.”

Shisui bites the inside of his cheek because dying of a hard-on isn’t exactly on his to-do list, “Fine.”

She beams in response, green chakra humming over her palms, she reattaches the tendons and resets the nerves. Having the feeling put back in his arms is a _strange_ experience, it’s like there’s bubbles effervescing in his blood, it tingles and then there’s movement.

Shisui gives squeezes his hand in front of her, testing his newly mobile limbs, snakes a hand to the back of her neck and pulls her mouth against his. Sakura makes a sound between a grunt and a laugh. She kisses him thoroughly, his glove-covered fingers slip beneath her shirt and he strokes the skin at her waist.

Sakura notices the blood trailing down his arms and pulls back with a frown, “I forgot about the kunai, give me.”

She doesn’t wait for him to offer his appendages, she heals the cuts on his forearms, not even battering an eyelash as he adjusts her position on his stomach. She cleans the rivulets of blood with a rag from her medical pouch.

“You know,” Shisui starts off lightly, a twinkle falling into his obsidian eyes, his hands slips up the front of her shirt and gives her breasts a good squeeze when she finishes healing him, “I think this is my favorite position.”

It’s hard not to _smile_ at this man because he’s so, so _Shisui._

“So your masculinity isn’t threatened by my strength?” she asks quirkily, a smile twitching on her lips.

Shisui snorts and raises his knees, so she rests flatly against his chest, “I _like_ a woman who can throw me around.”

“Masochist,” Sakura giggles.

“Sadist,” he sings and pulls her with a mock-growl, “Now, c’mere.”

Shisui rolls her over and—

A piercing shriek fills the air, it’s so _loud_ that the birds that were perched innocently on the telephone wires squawked and left the premise with the hefty sound of fluttering wings. The duo blinks simultaneously before shifting their head to the left.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto’s voice cracks, he looks faintly green and his nose wrinkles. Sasuke stands next to him looking gobsmacked, the most expressive since—since they were like _twelve,_ and Sai who’s just indifferent.

“Uh,” she begins intelligently, quickly removing Shisui’s hands from under her shirt she makes a move to sit up and gasps when she’s shoved right back onto the ground. She glares at her—her Shisui.

Shisui looks pointedly down to his crotch and narrows his eyes.

Sakura is wise enough not to laugh.

“What?”

The blonde sputters, “What—What do you mean _what_?” he motions his hands to the two of them, “At least sit up I—”

It’s like the ramen got to him and he’s suffering hypertension.

“You’re sleeping with my cousin?” Sasuke utters with disbelief.

“I do more than just sleep with him, Sasuke- _kun_ ,” Sakura rolls her eyes unperturbed by his deduction, shifting her body so he can roll behind her, she sits on his lap, and smiles, “Sometimes he makes me lunch.”

“I _always_ make lunch.”

“You _buy_ lunch,” she points out.

Shisui counters, “I _make_ dinner.”

Sakura nods in acceptance, “Sometimes he makes me breakfast too.”

Naruto stammers, placing his hands on his hips, he retorts, “How _long_ have you two been—been sleeping together?”

Sakura frowns at the term but does not reply.

“It’ll be six months next week,” Shisui shrugs, teeth glimmering in the sunlight.

Sai’s eyes widen.

“So you’re sleeping with him for food?” Sasuke deadpans, eyes flickering to red and then black.

The older Uchiha’s arms tighten around her and she answers sunnily, “And riceballs—I _swear_ their better than your mom’s Sasuke.”

Shisui laughs at the compliment, sunshine and warmth fissuring over him, he presses a kiss to her cheek, “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

Naruto stares at them with surprise. Maybe it’s the wholeness of it all, he thinks. How _comfortable_ Shisui looks, how he looks with her and how un-haunted he _doesn’t_ look. Naruto had noticed, since the Uchiha clan resurrection, the entire clan had looked at the village as if it were a ghost town like the entire village was just a _dream._ Trauma yes, that’s what it was, but it was also the fact that they needed to adjust—they _were_ dead.

But Shisui—Shisui looks alive and Sakura looks so _happy._

Sakura gives them – her team thank you very much – lots of smiles, hugs, and warmth in general, but this time it’s different. Sakura is smiling, but the type of smile she wants to hide because she fears that if she smiles like how she is right now, her face would break in _half_ for the brightness of it all. She’s biting her lip from _smiling_ because she’s just so _happy_ and—

“You do realize you’re going to be the one to tell baa-chan that you’re dating right,” Naruto snorts, he’s a lot calmer than he was prior his mental breakdown, he even smiles, “She’s going to want to threaten him.”

Sakura laughs nervously because Tsunade-sama is going to do a lot more than _threaten_ Shisui.

“Why aren’t you say anything?” Sasuke turns to Sai.

Sai blinks at the suddenness of the question, “Well emo, I already knew that these two were engaging in sexual intercourse.”

Shisui snicker gets lost in Sakura’s gasp.

“Since dickless’s birthday,” he nods, “He made his claim on her when Yuki-san tried to coerce her into sexual intercourse, but I doubt you two would remember because you were drinking your entire body weight in alcohol.”

Sasuke is too stunned to reply.

“ _Made his claim_?” Sakura parrots and turns to look at Shisui had the gall to _shrug._

“You’re off the market,” he states flippantly.

“I’m not a piece of _meat_ you can claim as your own, you caveman!”

Shisui kisses her sweetly, a little too quick to be chaste, “No, but you _are_ mine.”

Naruto interrupts before he decides to barf up his breakfast, “Just take care of her Uchiha, Sakura-chan looks a lot happier since—well, forever.”

Sakura buries her hands in her head because she swears her face is about to _burn_ off.

Shisui’s arms just tighten around her.

.

“Kaa-chan,” Sasuke starts off with narrowed brows at the dinner table.

Itachi raises a brow, because Sasuke rarely verbally interacts during dinner. He prefers the quiet, ignoring part of dinner, keeping to his thoughts and out of Fugaku’s scrutiny – you’re of age to be wedded Sasuke, is what his father had said one night – he sips his water with interest.

“Yes, Sasuke-chan?” Mikoto hums as she serves the last bits of her curry.

When she takes a seat at the table and watches her boys – and Shisui – dig into their meal, Sasuke finishes the attack, “Did you know Shisui is dating Sakura?”

Shisui, much to Sasuke’s irritation, doesn’t bat a lash.

And maybe this really is all Sasuke’s fault, because his mother’s eyes _sparkle,_ not the quiet matriarch adoring sparkle, but the _Uchiha-shinobi_ type of mischievousness that he had once seen in Itachi’s eyes when he was younger. 

“Sakura-chan, Shisui?” Mikoto inquires softly.

Shisui inclines his head.

“She’s an excellent choice, Shisui,” Fugaku nods in approval and picks up a piece of nori.

“I always thought she’d marry either Itachi-chan or Sasuke-chan,” she muses and she absolutely _adores_ the way Shisui tightens his grip on his chopsticks – she tries to smother her giggle inwardly – and continues picking up her cup of water, “But she’s much better suited for you, Shisui-chan.”

Shisui blinks at the _elation_ in his aunt’s voice, he asks softly, “Really?”

Mikoto smiles, “Of course. My son is so very kind and honorable, I know you will make her happy.”

He stares at her for a moment, he wonders if she confused him for Itachi, but—

_—my son. I know you—_

Mikoto considers Shisui a son.

And it makes his heart _squeeze_ , because for so long he’s been parent-less and he doesn’t even _remember_ what his own mother was like and he always felt like he was intruding when Itachi invites him for dinner or breakfast and—

“Just don’t keep me away from my grandbabies,” she says sternly, her eyebrows furrowing.

Sasuke chokes, “Grandbabies?”

“You are planning on marrying her, right Shisui?” Fugaku challenges him with dark eyes.

And this time he glares at Sasuke.

Itachi snickers quietly to the left of him.

Shisui inwardly scowls, instead, he looks directly at his younger cousin and smiles. It’s a _nice_ smile, Sasuke realizes dreadfully. Shisui, with as much Uchiha eloquent mannerism as he could summon, deliberately twirls his chopsticks in his noodles and replies, “Of course, Fugaku-sama. I was just waiting for the right time.”

Mikoto could barely control herself, “I think it should be an autumn wedding! We’ll have enough time to plan everything, though I don’t know if Sakura-chan would want to get married in the spring or—”

“Maybe after our one year anniversary, Mikoto-obaa it’s only been six months since I’ve begun courting her,” Shisui tries to appease her excitement, “I’m taking her to Tea for our anniversary.”

“How romantic!” she beams.

Sasuke scowls and snaps, “You cannot _date_ Sakura.”

“And why not, otouto?” Itachi chimes in.

“Because she’s—she’s,” he struggles, “Because she’s my _teammate_.”

“Sakura will put you through a wall if you start telling her what to do,” Shisui replies casually and chews his fish, “After all, she’s _mine._ ”

And he didn’t care for his parent’s reactions, because Sakura is _his_ and just this once, he will be selfish.

“Speaking of dating,” Shisui changes the subject before Sasuke can attempt to spar him in the middle of dating, “How _is_ Izumi-chan, Itachi?”

Fugaku, uncharacteristically, chokes.

.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Sasuke stares at the papers half in shock, half in wariness.

Sakura scowls, “Do I look like an _idiot_ , Sasuke?”

“You’re dating Shisui, so I really don’t know anymore.”

Sakura slaps the back of his head and he falls to the ground with the grace of an elephant. She turns to his older brother with a pleasant smile, “What do you think, Itachi-san?”

Itachi chuckles at his little brother who stands up huffing and puffing, he nods, “It sounds feasible. How long would recovery be?”

“Seventy-two hours,” she answers immediately, “For twenty-four of those hours you would be sleeping so forty-eight, approximately,” she glances at her chart, “If the signs of inflammation of decrease, then less.”

“And this is going to work?” Sasuke repeats his question.

“Eighty percent,” Sakura shrugs, “If it doesn’t work, you’re just going to have different colors.”

“When you say—”

“Sasuke,” she inhales with frustration, “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

_I won’t allow it._

Itachi glances at his brother, “What does father say about this?”

“If it’s a success,” she smiles at that, “Then he’ll make it mandatory for the clan members with sharingan to overgo a transplant as well.”

Sasuke blinks.

.

“Sakura, you’re going to be half-dead tomorrow if you don’t get some sleep,” Shisui says groggily, he rubs his eyes and looks over the couch. Papers, notebooks and pens scatter the coffee table.

“I’ll take a soldier pill,” Sakura waves it off.

He narrows his eyes.

That is not what he wants to _hear._

Sakura, who’s so engrossed in her scrolls and research notes, finally notices Shisui’s burning glare from the corner of the hallway and she sighs, “Shisui?”

He shuffles closer and looks down at her on the couch.

“Go to sleep,” she says.

Shisui’s eyebrow twitches and he grinds his teeth, “ _Sakura.”_

She has the audacity to _flinch._ She counters, straightening up on the couch, “What? Don’t _yell_ at me. I—” she flickers her gaze over to the cluttered coffee table notes, “I have to review all this.”

“For what?”

Sakura’s teeth curl into an angry frown, “For the surgery tomorrow.”

Shisui blinks and his expression melts, “The transplant?” he shuffles over to the couch, he lays Sakura’s head on his lap, “You’re nervous.”

She snorts, “Do you blame me?”

Shisui rolls his eyes, he presses his lips to her forehead and drags his mouth down to her cheek, “I wouldn’t know, I’m not a doctor.”

“Humor me,” Sakura rolls her eyes.

Shisui purses his lips, “Sakura, you are probably the only person in the world that can make this work. If you can’t do this, no one _can._ ”

“Tsunade-sama could—”

“Retired,” he cut off bluntly, “Plus, she’s been saying you surpassed her since you were sixteen, so really, you’re the only person.”

Sakura tries to look exasperated, but most of her anxiety clears, she pouts, “Shisui, I don’t—this is your _cousin_ and I don’t…” she tightens her grip on her notebook, “He’s suffered a lot and I don’t want to screw it up.”

There are moments, moments like this where Shisui knows that even if the sky were to collapse, or the ocean would swallow the earth, or even if the ground would disappear into the sea, Shisui could never stop loving Sakura more than the world needed oxygen. Because she loves everything so fiercely, so kindly, so gently, so earnestly—that sometimes he feels this dark, possessive edge in him to take her and hide her away from the world, because the world did not _deserve_ Haruno Sakura and he falls in love with her just that much.

“Sakura,” he breathes sweetly over her mouth, “You’re going to be fine, I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”

Sakura looks at him, “Every step of the way?”

Shisui promises her, “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

.

“How are you boys feeling?” Mikoto’s voice is soothing as she looks at both of her sons who rest on the hospital beds.

“I feel like I’m swimming in ramen,” Sasuke mumbles drunkenly.

Naruto tries not to giggle from the doorframe.

“Isn’t my hair, pretty?” Itachi asks sunnily.

Mikoto bites her lip from exploding into laughter, even Fugaku tries to swallow his grin.

Naruto cocks his head to the side and tells them, “Sakura-chan said they're going to be drugged up until dinner-time, so they should sleep it off once they’ve had a meal.”

“We will take care of it,” Fugaku replies.

The blonde nods.

“Where is Sakura-chan?” Mikoto asks, she stands up from her chair and continues, “I would like to thank her for all her hard work.”

Naruto stares at her uncomfortable at the question, he scratches the side of his face, “Um, Sakura-chan collapsed after the surgery. She’s resting in her office right now, I think she overworked herself.”

She frowns, “Overworked herself? Where is her office?”

“Third floor, last door on the left,” her blonde teammate hopes that Sakura doesn’t kill him for giving out her whereabouts when she’s unconscious.

The walk to her office is quiet, Fugaku behind her and it’s impossible to _not_ find her office, her door held the words _Haruno Sakura. Second-in-Command MD._

“Sakura-chan?” Mikoto knocks on the door before she turns the knob and opens, “I heard—”

She stops her sentence abruptly, her eyebrows raise to her hairline and she stares at the scene in front of her with a quiet amount of surprise. Fugaku’s quite exhale is enough to tell her that he feels the same way.

Shisui is lounging on the couch, Sakura’s head on his lap, a blanket covered over her small form and when he turns his head to see the duo at the doorframe—he presses his index finger against his mouth in a shushing motion.

He strokes her hair soothingly and hums when she nuzzles into his stomach.

Shisui’s smile is so _warm_ that it makes Mikoto lean against Fugaku in gratefulness.

It’s been a while since she’s seen that smile.

.

“How’s it feel?” Sakura asks as she rolls over on the grass and looks up. Shisui’s just so _cute_ playing nurse. He unravels their bandages slowly, taking his time with the scissors, and steps back as soon as it’s off.

Sasuke stares at her with muted shock.

“I can see,” Itachi sounds incredulous, “I can _see_.”

 _Sharp._ He could see texture, shade, contrast, the freckles on Sasuke’s face, the pores on his arms and _color._

“You can test out your sharingan in three hours,” Sakura beams and latches herself to Shisui with such brightness that it blinds him for a bit, “Just give it some time to settle.”

“Sakura,” Sasuke breathes, a tiny smile quirks at his lips, “Thank you.”

And for once, those words – they don’t hurt.

.

“Yakisoba?” Shisui asks as Sakura places an order.

“I’m hungry,” she frowns and watches the vendor pour her noodles into a paper plate, “Someone decided to take out their extra energy on me.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” he laughs when she pokes him with her chopstick.

“I distinctly remember my mouth being occupied,” Sakura sniffs and slurps some of her noodles. She hums with delight, “Zero-san really makes the best yakisoba, here try some,” she swirls some noodles and lifts up her chopsticks for him to take a bite.

“Honestly forehead, you two are so cute it’s almost nauseating,” Ino interjects from the side of a stall, her hands full of cake ingredients.

Sakura turns her head after feeding Shisui and retorts, “You’re just jealous Sai doesn’t feed you?”

Ino smiles salaciously, “Well if you must _know_ —”

“I don’t want to know,” she interrupts with a flicker of disgust, she picks up a soybean and chews. She turns to Shisui, “What do you think of the noodles?”

“I can make better yakisoba,” he licks the corner of his lip and she feeds him again.

Sakura cocks an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Really,” Shisui chews his food swiftly.

“Then put your money where your mouth is, Uchiha,” she picks up more food and chews it.

Ino doesn’t like the fact that the two of them are practically ignoring her presence, but somehow, the two of them look untouchable, like they’re stuck in their own little world and she can’t really fault her best friend for being so in love.

.

“Zero-san’s yakisoba is still a godsend.”

“Sakura, you had three plates of my yakisoba.”

“Your point?”

.

When it’s Shisui’s birthday, Sakura wakes him up with his mouth on him and he swears he never came so fast. _Ever._ She kisses him thoroughly and the way she uses her _chakra_ —fuck, he’s so _glad_ Sasuke messed with time travel, and he’s not _dead._

Sakura does that thing with her tongue against his pulse, grinds her hips in tiny circles and he moans.

He’s _really_ glad he’s not dead.

She makes him breakfast. Miso soup, grilled fish, rice and a rolled omelet. It’s simple and traditional, but it makes Shisui feel like it’s a home—she’s a home and his heart squeezes a little more when she pulls out a fluffy cheesecake from the oven because—

“—you can never have too many sweets, Shisui!”

All the things—the good things, the indulgent things, the peace he’s been denied as a youth, he’s getting it back. Full force and it nearly overwhelms him with _how_ he’s receiving it.

Who he’s receiving it from.

He trains with Sasuke and Itachi, while Sakura’s working a shift and Mikoto makes him lunch. Fugaku gives him one of his tantos he left in the basement somewhere and the sentiment nearly brings him to his knees. Itachi and Sasuke gifts two pictures. One is a blown-up portrait of the family—his family, one with Sasuke and Itachi and Fugaku and Mikoto and him in the Uchiha fields. The other is a picture of him and Sakura in the hospital—Mikoto took that one of them sleeping.

He receives congratulations from some clansmen, his shinobi and hell, even the Hokage gifts him with something.

“Icha Icha?” Shisui blinks at the title.

Kakashi smiles with his eyes, “Sakura-chan prefers violence, but I like tactics. You know the classic.”

Shisui assumes that this is how he gains Kakashi’s approval.

Later that day, Shisui heads home to see that Sakura throws him a surprise party. Clansmen, shinobi, Jounin—the entire lot. There is music, alcohol, food, presents, and cake. Lemon cake, with vanilla cream and strawberries.

Shisui gives her a grin when she winks at him.

He dances with her drunkenly, silly, and Shisui is so _happy._

And when everyone leaves, she yanks off her really pretty, red, sparkly dress and there is.

Black. Lace.

It’s sexy, with lots of thin ribbons that crisscross into tsubaki flowers and it makes her satin-colored skin. His blood is running _fire_ and his eyes flicker to red. His fingers drag up her skin and she loves the way his hair feels in her fingers. She looks so goddamn _beautiful_ and he tells her with the rough velvet of his voice.

His fingers comb through her hair and she giggles into his mouth, “Happy birthday, Shisui.”

Shisui can’t wait for his birthday now. If it means waking up knowing that every day, knowing that each year that passes, Sakura is there to spend it with him, he’ll continue to wake up and continue to love her for it, because his reality is so much better than a dream.

.

“I have a mission,” Sakura groans rolling over onto her stomach, “There’s an outbreak of a low-level virus spreading in Grass, I have to go cure it.”

Shisui frowns, “What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m going to miss Sasuke’s birthday!” she whines, “I got him such a good present too!”

He rolls his eyes, “What did you get him?”

Sakura rummages in her bag, pulls out a book and tosses it to him. She takes pleasure in watching his eyes widen and his jaw drop. He’s not sure if he should laugh or well, laugh. The cover was of a young girl in a desert and man – Sasuke because there is only one person in this world who’s hair looks like _that_ – watching her from afar, with knives in his hand and black smoke bleeding into the edges of the cover.

“What—?”

“Okay, so long story short. Sasuke saved the life of this girl when were genin,” Sakura starts off dramatically, “She was drowning in quicksand—her father was a rebel to one of the families, so they tried to track him down and instead they found his daughter. So they kidnapped his daughter and instead of you know, killing her, they decided to set her up in quicksand. So Sasuke set fire to the other nin and yanked her out of the quicksand. Turns out that her mother was a journalist for the village, she’s been writing about the feud for years and so the girl that Sasuke saved became a writer—” she snorts when she points at the cover, “Though, _The Fire in Me_ is quite a title and she even got his hair down even though it’s been like eight years!”

“I can’t _wait_ to see you give it to him,” Shisui snickers.

“I can’t either,” she sighs.

.

“It’s only one week,” Sakura laughs as Shisui clings onto her at the front gate, she hugs him tighter.

He whines, “That’s seven days!”

“I promise to keep the youthful flower safe! She is far too precious too not be anything of youth, Uchiha-san! If I shall fail I will two hundred laps around the village!” Lee salutes him with a bright smile.

Sakura leans up and kisses him on the mouth softly, “I’ll see you soon.”

Shisui swallows a lump in his throat, he presses his lips onto her forehead and he says sincerely, seriously, “Come back to me.”

_Come back to me._

.

It’s been eight days.

Shisui is about to lose his _fucking_ sanity.

His body coils tightly with chakra, eyes flickering back from red to black and he shoots off like a bullet when an ANBU operative shows up at his door. It takes him five seconds to get to the Hokage Tower, by this time, protocol is barely registering in his head, because he opens the door chakra heavy.

“Sakura?” Shisui asks quickly, he barely manages to bow the first time.

Kakashi looks exhausted, angry, but exhausted. Sasuke and Naruto already in the room, Itachi appearing from the window. His words are tight, violent and curt, “Captured. The team managed to report before the collapsed with injuries, they are being wheeled into surgery as we speak,” he stands up and tosses Shisui the scroll, “Whoever captured her wants the sharingan and knows that she’s the only one able to transplant correctly. Normally, I wouldn’t send sharingan-users to on this particular mission because of the mission itself, but I have no choice,” Kakashi’s eyes are dark, stormy and emotion leaks heavy into his tone, “Bring her home.”

.

Usually, Itachi takes the lead on such missions. Kidnapping and ransoms, hell, the occasional seduction mission, but this one—this one was _personal_ , because Kakashi knows, that _nothing_ would stop Shisui from bringing Sakura home.

The trek to Grass country is a two days journey, but with the way Uchiha-taichou travels, it’s a one and half-day journey.

“Here,” Sasuke hands him two rice balls, “You need to eat Shisui.”

Shisui turns to look at him with heavy eyes.

“Sleep too,” Naruto adds in, his face is grim, eyes bluer than the skies, “We can’t help Sakura-chan if we’re exhausted.”

Shisui’s hands tighten, rice balls turning into mush, and his eyes flicker to red.

“Shisui,” Itachi is the only one brave enough to grasp his shoulder, he looks at him with quiet assurance, “Sakura is strong, she’s not going to break, she’ll be fine.”

Shisui inhales shakily, he knows she’s _fine_ and she will be fine—

_But what if she’s not?_

.

Sakura’s head is swimming, but she snaps her attacker’s heads as if they are made of paper and they fall to the ground like nothing.

God, she is so _tired_ , but if they think they can _touch_ her and _live_ to tell the tale—they have another thing coming.

She should leave the leader alive because she knows—she knows in her _bones_ that Shisui is coming and there would be _nothing_ to anchor him to reality once he figures out who is behind this.

She wishes she could be awake to see it, but the poison is heavy and she’s so _tired._

.

“Her chakra is weak, but she’s there. She’s alive,” Naruto can feel her in the warehouse, her chakra feels like it’s stuttering, but it’s there.

“How many people?” Shisui asks, his muscles taut with tension, he’s just barely restraining himself from flickering over to her and—

“One,” he frowns, “There are other bodies, but they’re dead.”

Sasuke cracks a smirk, “I told you she would take care of them.”

He didn’t say that, but that’s beside the point.

“Engage in two,” Shisui commands and his sharingan _blazes_.

.

“We need him alive—” Sakura can hear Itachi hiss and she’s barely conscious of it all.

“—seriously, we need to bring him back to T&I, Shisui!”

“Shi—” Sakura’s voice feels like it’s swimming and she’s sure there is blood in her mouth.

There are hands on her, “—kura.”

It goes up in bubbles.

.

Shisui uses shunshin in a dizzying pattern, it depletes his chakra quicker, but he needs to get her to the hospital _fast._ Her pulse is thready and she’s coughing up blood. _Poison._ That’s what Sakura had said before she lost consciousness. It would have been better if she was cut and had broken limbs because her seal could’ve taken care of those things—but poison, that’s internal.

The rest of his team is briefing the Hokage.

“Get Shizune,” Shisui barely recognizes his own voice when he flickers into the hospital, his body in a state when the nurse realizes who’s in his eyes.

And it’s instant chaos.

Shizune is running into the lobby and she yells out numbers.

“—destroying her uterus! I need an IV drip and an oxygen mask!”

Shisui’s heart drops into his stomach.

.

The faint beeping sound of her heart monitor is the only thing that keeps him grounded outside the room. Tsunade-sama had appeared an hour into the surgery, she walks out of the operating room and Shisui is dead on his feet—

“She’s going to be fine,” Tsunade tells him tiredly.

Shisui blacks out after that.

.

Sakura comes to the feeling of something warm grasping her left hand, holding it in place, she blinks up at the ceiling blearily and she realizes faintly that she’s in the hospital. She turns her head to see Shisui’s head resting against her hand, the one that’s holding her’s and he looks so tired that it breaks her heart.

She gives his hand a good squeeze and watches with awe as his head snaps to look at her.

Shisui’s eyes blaze red and then flicker to coal.

She smiles, “Hey.”

He sighs deeply like a weight falls of his chest and he murmurs, “Sakura.”

“What happened?” Sakura’s voice is rough, she tries to sit up and he helps her. Grabbing a cup from the nightstand, he pours her a cup of water and helps her drink.

“Poison,” Shisui replies quietly, “It attacked your chakra system and seeped into your uterus. Tsunade-sama managed to remove all the traces before it did more damage. Your team is fine, they’re still resting in their rooms,” he cups her hands and continues, “The poison ate at your reserves, you’re going to have to build them back up again, you’re off the roster for two months to recuperate—that includes working in the hospital.”

Sakura glares at him for a moment and then sighs, “Yeah I figured, did you find that stupid blonde—the one with the scar? I left him for you.”

Shisui’s smirk is feral, his voice unkind, “I found him.”

“Good.”

Shisui looks at the tubes stuck in her veins and realizes just how _reckless_ he had been. His emotions were distraught and muddy, but no one has _blamed_ him. Not one. He allowed his emotions to get the better of him, but seeing Sakura so _weak_ and _powerless_ in front of him, made something in him _snap_.

He thought the worse.

He didn’t know if they _tortured_ her or if they _raped_ her—

He didn’t know and it drove him _mad._

It drove to the point where he didn’t care if he lived or died, as long as she was okay, looking at him, smiling at him and telling him that he was annoying, but not being able to tell her where his mission would take him and that he couldn’t take a mission with her because of their difference in rank—

“I’m resigning from ANBU,” Shisui says suddenly, he takes a seat next to her, she shuffles over and places himself in between his legs.

Sakura blinks, “What?”

“I’m resigning from ANBU,” he repeats, wrapping his arms around her, he buries his head into her neck, “I’m going to be a Jounin teacher.”

She’s in shock, but she giggles all the same, “Shisui-sensei, huh?”

“Don’t ruin it for me,” he grumbles and kisses her forehead.

Sakura asks quietly, “Why are you resigning?”

Shisui pauses, “I want to be with you all the time,” his fingers brush over her arms, the paleness of her forearms makes him sick, “I don’t want to go on ANBU missions knowing that I don’t know when the next time I’ll see you is. I want to come back to you. I want to be here, next to you. I need to be with you—I can’t go _through_ this again.”

She whispers, “Shisui.”

Shisui is crying into her neck, shuddering breaths wrack his body, his voice cracks, “Don’t _ever_ do that to me again. I don’t know if I _can_ take it. I’ve lost everything before,” he breathes, tears hot on her skin, “Everything. I gave up _everything._ You are the only thing I won’t give up—the only person, Sakura I won’t _allow_ it.”

Sakura’s heart is shaking in her chest, the medication makes her dizzy, but the emotion is raw. Her hands grasp his, she squeezes his arms and her voice is wet, “Shisui, I’m sorry,”

“I love you,” Shisui says it. He finally says it and its painful with ardor, like he doesn’t know how else to say it, “I love you and God _help_ me if you put me through that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura breathes and she promises, “I won’t do it again.”

His laugh is painful and wonderful at the same time.

“I love you too,” Sakura replies softly, “But you don’t have to leave ANBU to see me and be with me. I know you like it there.”

Shisui is quiet for a few moments, his fingers brushing her arms soothingly, almost as if he doesn’t believe she’s really here, there, in his arms and he tells her, “I want to marry you, you know. I want to come home every day and see you. I can’t do that if I’m in ANBU.”

It’s time he starts living his life.

Sakura tries to calm her heart, the machine, however, is unhelpful because it displays and records the rapidness of her heart beats and she _swears_ if Shisui is grinning, she may very well kill him.

“That is _not_ how you propose,” she says weakly, her heart monitor spiking and she tries to look everywhere but at _him._

“Sakura I’m leaving ANBU,” Shisui is smiling into her neck, “I’m going to be a Jounin teacher, I’m going to marry you, Mikoto-obaa is going to plan an autumn wedding, Itachi will be the best man, Sasuke and Naruto will be the bridesmaids, and we’re going to have lots of babies.”

Sakura sputters, “I don’t remember agreeing to this proposal and,” she blinks, “Babies? More than one?”

“I want five.”

“You better find another wife if you want five—I am _not_ a factory.”

“So, is that a yes?” Shisui turns to look at her, her head resting in the crook of his elbow, his eyes are red—he wants to remember this moment, every flicker of light, every facial expression that warms over her face.

She doesn’t disappoint, emerald eyes soften, her lips part, “You’re the only one I want.”

Sakura swears, she falls in love with him a little bit more when he smiles like that, when he holds her like that because Shisui makes her so inexplicably, so deliriously _happy_ that she feels so full and whole with him.

Ino may murder her for making Sasuke her maid of honor—

—because Shisui, he was just _it._


End file.
